


honey, can you guess my name?

by anserpina



Category: Voltron: Legendary Defender
Genre: Alternate Universe - College/University, Costume Parties & Masquerades, Cuban Lance (Voltron), Fluff, Halloween Gift Exchange, M/M, Pining Keith (Voltron), Pining Lance (Voltron), Shiro and Keith are biological half brothers, alcohol mention
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-16 18:30:29
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,275
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16500527
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/anserpina/pseuds/anserpina
Summary: “That’s the whole point of a masquerade, isn’t it? To meet people and not give your true identity away?”“I mean, sure,” Lance agreed. He grinned and leaned back on the wall, his arms crossed lazily. “I just think people wearing masks are hot.”“What about me?” he asked teasingly. “Do you think I’m hot?”Lance grinned wider, thrilled that the mystery boy had taken the bait. “Absolutely.”It’s Adam’s Annual Halloween Bash and romance waits for two masked strangers amongst the ghosts and ghouls this year.





	honey, can you guess my name?

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Midnightfalterings](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Midnightfalterings/gifts).



> happy halloween!! this was written for a holiday gift exchange for my lovely friend Aidan. i hope it’s everything he wanted and more.
> 
> pray for these pining fools. they’ll figure themselves out eventually...

Lance had celebrated every Halloween exactly the same way. From his very first holiday until his seventeenth, he and his older siblings donned their best costumes and dragged their cousins, nieces and nephews all over town in search of the best sweet treats. He would snap on some vampire fangs or a Spiderman costume, haul the nearest and teeniest McClain on his shoulders and walk from house to house, a bright orange bag swinging from his arm.

 

But Lance was at college now, away from his cousins and nieces and nephews, and there was only one thing on his mind this year: parties, parties and more parties. There were close to thirty different parties being thrown on Halloween night, and each one had its own appeal: mainly, the promise of free alcohol and a hell of a good time. But there was one party so iconic and legendary that it was by invitation only: Adam’s Annual Halloween Bash.

 

Adam’s halloween bash was well known around campus for being both the safest (because of the invitation-only, closed door policy) and the most popular parties at university. Lance had woken up on Sunday morning after the party last year to an instagram feed covered in photos of his classmates sitting by Adam’s pool, or playing drinking games on the deck, or posed on the flat roof of the three story house with the night sky as their backdrops. He scrolled through endless photos of people acting terrified at an all too realistic skeleton or squad posing behind perfectly carved jack-o-lanterns and had decided right then and there that he was going to try to get an invite next halloween.

 

“Even Kogane was there!” Lance gasped. He shoved his phone in front of the book his friend and roommate, Hunk, was reading with an irritated whine. “He barely even talks to anyone… how does someone like him get invited to such an exclusive party like that?”

 

“Why don’t you just ask him?” Hunk suggested.

 

Lance frowned at his best friend’s suggestion. “After he dumped that beaker of peroxide on me in biology and didn’t even apologize? No way,” he said. Hunk rolled his eyes and muttered something like “it was an accident” which he decided to ignore in favor of staring at the photo Keith had posted.

 

It had to be candid, because the quiet boy from his biology lab looked slightly surprised in the picture. Despite that, he still looked _good,_ his hair tied back in a messy ponytail and his eyes bright, like he had been laughing at something and whoever took the picture had caught him in the middle of it. He had a halo of gold leaves around his head (to fit with the mythology costume theme) but was dressed pretty basic otherwise, clad in the same black jeans and black tee shirt combo he frequently wore to class. As he looked at the photo, Lance felt something akin to nerves bubble up in his chest. He forced it back down and scrolled to another picture from the party. “I don’t need Keith’s help,” he muttered. “I’ll get invited all on my own.”

 

He realizes a little later that he doesn’t actually know what this guy looks like- he’s not tagged in any of the pictures, and there’s no trace of anyone named Adam on the following lists of the partygoers. He jokes to his friend Hunk that maybe the reason his Halloween party was so good was because Adam was a ghost, but he’s genuinely confused about how to find this guy, let alone how to get an invite to his party.

 

He doesn’t realize until a week before Halloween the following school year that he already _knows_ Adam. Lance had taken Spanish Literature as an easy course in his jam packed schedule, and he hadn’t really paid much attention during lessons. He went to class, goofed off on his phone behind his thick textbook and turned in his essays, each one coming back with almost no red marks and a boldly marked “A” in the top margin.

 

A tired looking boy intercepted him on his way out the door. “Hi,” he greeted. “Lance, right? I’m Adam, I sit behind you in the fourth row.”

 

He had a kind face and an easy smile, one that just kind of exudes charm, and Lance immediately liked him. “Oh, yeah. What’s up, man?”

 

Adam fidgeted, shifting his knapsack from his left shoulder to his right shoulder nervously. “Uh… this is going to be kind of embarrassing but I noticed that you always seem to get an A on your essays. Which is kind of crazy, because Menendez doesn’t normally give out A’s in this class.” He huffed a little, like he’s annoyed, and Lance finds himself smiling at that. “Trust me on that, I would know. I’m retaking this for the second time and it’s still not any easier.”

 

“I’m fluent in Spanish,” he explained. “I grew up here in California but my family was all born and raised in Cuba, so we always spoke it at home.” They walked as they talked, and Adam had slowed down a little bit to keep up with Lance’s easy stroll.

 

“Oh, that’s cool,” he said. It’s clear that he wants to say something else, but he stops himself at the last second, just as they reach the front of the building.

 

Lance turns before they head out to face him directly. He refused to make eye contact, his brown eyes peeking at Lance every so often from behind his wire rimmed glasses. He was cute, in a geeky sort of way, with shaggy brown hair that complimented his smooth brown skin that was just a shade darker than Lance’s own. He shook his head a little to stop himself from staring at the attractive guy in front of him. “Did you need something, Adam?” he asked.

 

Adam finally looked him in the eyes and squared his shoulders. “I did, actually,” he admits. “I was wondering if you would help me with this week’s essay? Not collaborating or anything like that, just proofreading so that I’m sure it actually makes sense before I turn in.” He sighed heavily and ran a hand through his hair. “I really can’t afford to fail this course again. It’s my last requirement before I get my masters degree and I’d really like to graduate soon, you know?”

 

It was such a simple thing, and Adam was so _nice,_ that he couldn’t say no even if he had wanted to. “Yeah, of course I can. We can meet up on Thursday night to look it over,” he offered.

 

His eyes lit up happily, showing that he clearly hadn’t been expecting Lance to agree so easily. “Really? Thank you so much, oh wow. That would be amazing, yes!” He fumbled for a second to dig in his bag, eventually pulling out his phone. “Just give me your number and I’ll remind you on Thursday,” he says excitedly as he hands his cell phone over.

 

Lance punched in his number, added a smiley face to his name and handed it back to Adam with a smile. “Perfect! Text me right now so I have your number too.”

 

The connection between cute-spanish-class Adam and awesome-party-host Adam didn’t actually hit until their meeting on Thursday. “Thanks for doing this,” he said once Lance had sat down and placed his lukewarm coffee on the table they had snagged in the lounge.

 

Lance waved it off. “Don’t even worry about it, dude. What’s your degree in, anyway?”

 

Adam was a poli-sci major and had already scored a pretty sweet internship at the Department of Conservation. Unfortunately, he needed to pass Spanish Literature in order to graduate, and it wasn’t exactly an easy class for those who weren’t fluent spanish speakers. “It was all that fit into my schedule,” Adam had explained when Lance asked him why he chose that course. “Classes and work and still trying to have a life is no easy task,” he said. He took off his glasses and rubbed a hand over his face tiredly. “My boyfriend jokes about how I’m barely ever home but I know he’s also kind of worried about me.”

 

“You live with your boyfriend?” Lance asked as he read through the first paragraph and winced. He felt bad every time he noticed a grammar mistake, but then he realized that was exactly what the other student wanted from him, so he lifted up his red pen to circle it.

 

Adam flipped a page in his notes as he studied for their exam the following week. “Yeah. We bought my parent’s old house when he graduated and when I was _supposed_ to graduate.” He bites the words out, irritated, and Lance hummed in sympathy. “It’s close to campus, thankfully. Only a five minute drive from here. We didn’t want to have a far commute,” he replied.

 

“We?” Lance hums and circles two more misspelled words.

 

“Mhm. My boyfriend’s brother lives with us too.” He flipped a page. “He’s an English major here.”

 

Lance nods as he skims through the last page of the essay. “That’s nice of you. To let him stay there with you guys,” he says absentmindedly. He’s almost to the last paragraph and there’s _a lot_ of mistakes.

 

Adam shrugged and flipped another page. “He’s a cool kid. He doesn’t really like being around a lot of people so he didn’t want to dorm.”

 

Lance laughed. “I can relate. I mean, I’m lucky because I’ve gotten to room with my best friend but it’s still hard to live with someone else, you know? You have to get used to how they live and everything.” He underlined another sentence and drew a small question mark next to it. “He did offer to stay in and binge scary movies on Halloween with me, though.”

 

“A true friend will watch Friday the Thirteenth eight times in a row,” Adam joked, his eyes still stuck on his notes.

 

“That’s Hunk,” Lance said happily. “What about you? Do have any plans this weekend?” He looked over at the essay that was covered in red marks and winced slightly. “Besides studying for your Spanish Lit midterm, I mean.”

Adam groaned. “That bad, huh?”

 

“I wouldn’t say bad,” he replied gently. “I definitely wouldn’t say good, either, but that’s why you asked for my help in the first place.”

 

Adam smiled as he took the marked essay from Lance. “And I definitely appreciate it,” he replied. “Huh. I spelled penguin wrong?”

 

He smiled back casually, trying not to offend the nice guy sitting across from him. “I know you have a calculator in your brain, Mr. Businessman, but you really need to work on your spelling. It’s _pinguino._ ”

 

“Okay. I’ll make these changes and hope for the best tomorrow,” he said wearily. He began to gather his things, shoving his books in his bag haphazardly. “After I hand this in, I’m done with Spanish for this weekend. Besides, we’re throwing a party tomorrow night, and my boyfriend will kill me if I spend the whole night studying.”

 

Lance felt something in his brain short circuit and then restart, this time running at hyperspeed. “A-a party?” he stammered.

 

Adam shrugged his bag on his back and nodded. “Yeah. We have this Halloween party every year. We decorate the house all week and invite some of the campus kids to come. It’s pretty fun,” he said. His eyes lit up, and he turned towards Lance, who was still sat in his armchair. “Hey, you should come, too! I don’t know if parties are your kind of thing but it’s always a lot of fun and you can bring your friend if you wanted-”

 

“I’ll be there!” He almost yelled it, and coughs to hide the excitement in his voice. He took a small breath, discreetly, and smiled calmly at Adam’s confused face. “I mean, that sounds like it could be fun,” he said.

 

Adam grinned again and nodded. “Yeah, it is. I’ll text you all the info. It’s the least I could do for all your help with this,” he said, holding up the essay.

 

“Oh, it’s not a big deal,” Lance replied. “I’ll see you this weekend.”

 

“Sounds good,” Adam said with a wave, before turning on his heel and walking away. Lance waits until he’s definitely gone around the corner to call Hunk and relay the story, his brain still not fully processing that awesome-party-host Adam was also the tall, kind of nerdy, kind of cute Adam in his Spanish Lit class.

 

It was the next morning and the day of the party when the text from Adam actually came through. Lance has just woken up (late) for his first class, so he doesn’t see it until he’s walking out of his dorm.

 

**_From: Adam W_ **

_LANCE!!!! Menendez gave me an A!!!! you’re such a lifesaver!!! oh, btw, here’s the info for tonight. it should be fun!!_

 

_220 andover drive_

_10pm. theme: angels and devils_

 

_see you then. and thanks again!!! :)_

 

It was only when he was en route to his biology seminar that he registered the word “theme.” He shot Adam a text back ( _theme???_ ) confusedly. The other boy answered almost instantly.

 

**_From: Adam W_ **

_yeah! it’s a costume party. a masquerade. didn’t i tell you that??_

 

He had completely forgotten that they usually had a theme. If his midterms didn’t kill him, the stress of trying to find an outfit good enough for such a huge event definitely would.

 

**_Lance_ **

_no!! what should i wear?_

 

**_From: Adam W_ **

_just wear white or black or red and buy a mask, it’s nbd! you have good style so you’ll be fine :)_

 

 

* * *

 

 

“Do you think Keith will be there again this year?” Hunk asked. He had an exam early the next morning and wasn’t really into the party scene anyway, so he had declined Adam’s invitation. Despite that, he was still helping Lance plan his own outfit for the party, like the good roommate and friend he was. “He didn’t say anything in European History when everyone was talking about their plans.”

 

“Who cares what Kogane is doing?” Lance scoffed. He looked away from the white button up he was holding to glance at Hunk and was met with a look of disbelief. “Not me!” he insisted.

 

His friend sighed in defeat and threw a different white shirt at him. “Are you lying to me or to yourself?” he replied. “And wear that. It’s the least wrinkled shirt you have.”

 

* * *

 

Adam’s house was no joke.

 

Lance’s uber pulled up to the address at ten thirty- just late enough that he didn’t come off as over eager. But really, he wouldn’t even have needed the address to know where the party was at. Cars lined both sides of the street outside the old victorian house and a swarm of people were gathered in the front yard, some of them spilling out into the street. A lot of the girls he saw had opted for thin white slips and frail halos as their costumes, while a good amount of the guys were dressed head to toe in black. Some wore devil horns on their heads in a half-hearted effort to dress up for the theme.

 

Lance  was dressed in regular black pants and a crisp white shirt, the same one Hunk had recommended he wear. He had thrown on a gold accented white blazer over the shirt and had covered his face with a white mask, embellished with gold vines that weaved around the edges. It hid his face from forehead to his cheekbones, and he barely even recognized himself with it on. But what really made his “holier than thou” look complete was the pair of white feathered wings strapped around his shoulders. Hunk had graciously lent him the key to the theater department’s props closet with a small but firm warning not to lose it at the house. After promising on both his life and afterlife (should it exist) that he wouldn’t lose it, he was free to go scour the walk in closet for religious trinkets. He was hoping for a cross, maybe a bible if he was lucky- but the wings had been propped against the wall, just begging him for a night out on the town.

 

They weren’t oversized, so he was able to get in and out of the small four door car pretty easily. Lance saw a few heads turn to look at him as he climbed the front steps to the large blue door, which wasn’t surprising. He was the only one from the angelic side of the guests with wings strapped to his back, so he was bound to get some attention. He ringed the bell and patiently leaned against the doorframe, pulling off his mask.

 

After a minute or two, a broad shouldered man wearing a black mask pulled open the door. He was dressed head to toe in black, and some fake blood had dripped down the side of his mouth. There was an upside down cross around his neck and a pair of horns to add to the demonic costume, but he had a hard time focusing on that- or anything else. Instead, he found his eyes being drawn towards the man’s large biceps and solid torso, and he thought, _he could probably crush me with those arms._

 

The man had just opened his mouth to talk when Adam appeared in the doorway, a small golden halo rising up and around his head. He wasn’t wearing a mask- instead, he had gold face paint decorating his face. It swirled around his eyes elaborately and glittered softly when he turned. “Lance!” he called out happily. He dipped under the larger guy’s arm to pull him into a hug. “We’re both angels, how cool is that! Oh wow, look at your wings,” he said. He turned them back and forth to look at them and whistled appreciatively. He pulled back and glanced towards the doorway, where the other man was now leaned against the door with a smile. “Ah, let me introduce you. Shiro, this is Lance, my super helpful spanish tutor. Lance, this is Shiro, my boyfriend.”

 

“Fiancé,” he added, his smile growing bigger by the second.

 

“Fiancé!” Adam exhaled. He held up his hand and peered at the gold band reflecting in the dim yellow porch light. “It’s been an exciting night already,” he explained withy a wide grin. He wrapped his hand around Lance’s wrist and pulled him inside.

 

Lance waved briefly at Shiro, who waved back and grinned as he was pulled into the dark entryway. Smoke hissed from fog machines in the corner of the room, setting the mood instantly from “fun house party” to “possibly haunted by a horde of ghosts.” Adam grinned as he took in the extremely realistic blood dripping down the walls and the thin veils of spiderwebs hanging above them.

 

“Dude,” he whispered. “This is amazing.” He reached out to touch some of the fake blood oozing on the white wall and watched with awe as it smeared the same way that real blood would. “How did you do all of this?”

 

“We have decorators do all the furnishings,” Adam explained. He pointed at the blood on Lance’s hand. “And that’s a temporary dye mixed with a gel base. The chemistry students helped us make it.”

 

Shiro came up beside Adam and lightly wrapped one arm around his waist. He smiled as Lance looked around the room, wide-eyed. “We met six years ago on Halloween so it’s kind of special to us,” he said. He chuckled as Lance peered at a large, lit candle with a dancing flame, unsure whether it was real or not. “That is real fire, actually, so I recommend not touching it,” he teased.

He yanked his hand back before he could get burned and grinned at Shiro goofily. “Good call.”

 

There was a crash from the floor above them, loud enough to be heard over the eerie music playing and loud half screams/half laughs of drunk college kids. “That… doesn’t sound good,” Shiro muttered. “I’m going to go check on that. Lance, it was nice meeting you. Enjoy yourself and have a good time! Feel free to check out the theme rooms,” he said cheerfully. His voice dropped as he walked towards the large spiral staircase. He shot a glance over his shoulder, a challenging smirk replacing his easy-going grin. “If you dare.” He ran up the stairs, taking them two at a time.

 

Adam watched him go with a soft smile on his face. He seemed to forget Lance was there at all as he stared at the staircase and spun the gold ring on his left hand absentmindedly. “Theme rooms?” Lance asked him curiously, making sure he was loud enough to be heard over the noise of the party.

 

“Oh yeah!” Adam jumped in spot as an embarrassed blush rose to his cheeks. “Uh, each room on the second floor has a theme. You know, ghosts, ghouls, vampires. That sort of stuff,” he said. He had edged towards the refreshments table as he had talked, and held up a beer questioningly. Lance frowned a little, and Adam held up what looked like a berry flavored margarita drink instead. He nodded and watched as the host poured it into a cup for him. “Just don’t go in the last door at the end of the hallway. That’s off-limits,” he warned as he handed the cup to Lance. “Other than that, have fun! And put your mask back on. This is a masquerade, after all.”

 

He reached up and slid the white mask down over his eyes before shooting a charming smile at him. “Like this?” he joked.

 

“Perfect,” he affirmed with a nod. Adam looked into the cooler and  bit his lip nervously before he gestured towards a door off to the side of the hall. “We’re already running out of ice. I’m going to run out back and grab some from our garage. In the meantime, why don’t you go check out the rooms?” he suggested. “The second to last door is my favorite. Truly the scariest room in the house. Shiro’s brother decorated it this year and he did a great job.”

 

He took Adam’s advice and checked out the rooms before he joined the actual party on the first floor. He smiled at a few rambunctious freshmen (art students, judging by the brace that one girl wore on her wrist and the streak of blue still painted across a blonde girl’s jawline) and edged past two girls chatting quietly on the last step at the top of the staircase. He pushed open the second to last door at the end of the hall carefully, before he stepped all the way inside.

 

He wasn’t _scared_ of haunted houses. He loved them, actually. Lance loved the rush of adrenaline best provided from a good scare. He did jump a little bit when the door slammed behind him, though, the creakiness of the old house setting him on edge. The loud sound echoed around the pitch black room, causing the hand not wrapped around his cup to shake slightly. There was a shuffle in the corner of the room right next to him, like someone had moved when they hadn’t meant to, and he almost passed out. “Hello?” he called out nervously.

 

A few seconds passed by quietly. No one answered him, and he wasn’t sure if that was reassuring or not.

 

“Hello?” he tried again.

 

This time, there was an answer. “Hi,” a voice whispered behind him.

 

Lance jumped a foot in the air, sending his cup soaring as he fell to the floor in fear. He could barely hear over the racing of his pulse in his ears, but the sound of feet shuffling away broke through. A few seconds later, the light switched on, bathing the room in a soft orange glow.

 

A boy stood above him, dressed entirely in black except for the soft looking red velvet of his blazer. He had long black hair that hung loose around his shoulders and dark eyebrows, one of which was raised at Lance as he laid on the floor. Dark grayish blue eyes shone through the ornate black and red mask he wore, causing him to lose more breath than he had during the fall.

 

“Dude, give a guy some warning,” he breathed.

 

The stranger crossed his arms defensively. “I was in here first.”

 

Lance threw his hands up, annoyed and irritated at the soreness where his arm had hit the wooden floor. “So you were just lurking around in the dark? That’s kind of creepy,” he accused.

 

“I wasn’t lurking!” The boy looked haughty despite the mask covering the majority of his face. “I was fixing one of the light strands,” he held up a string of lights pointedly.

 

“In the dark?”

 

The boy huffed. “It was light enough when these were plugged in,” he explained.

 

Lance eyed the strand curiously. “Okay, that makes a little more sense,” he relented. “What’s your name?”

 

The boy shifted his weight from his left foot to his right nervously. The movement seemed so familiar, like something Lance had definitely seen before. Before he could recall whatever memory was pulsing at the back of his mind, he looked down at the floor and noticed the dark plum colored alcohol that had splashed on his clean white jacket. “Oh, shit,” he groaned.

 

The boy followed his eyes to the bottom of the jacket, his own eyes widening at the mess. “Oh shit,” he echoed. “I- you- we need to clean that before it stains.” He held out his hand, covered in a black satin glove. He took it without hesitation. The boy pulled Lance to his feet easily, and truthfully he was a bit surprised by how strong he was. He was a few inches shorter than Lance and a little leaner, but he helped him up like he weighed nothing. He set down the string of lights on a table in the corner and then walked towards the door. “Follow me, the bathroom is over here.”

 

They walked towards the last door in the hallway, the one that Adam had said was off-limits, and pushed it open. Once Lance had closed the door behind him, he could see why it wasn’t part of the event: it was someone’s bedroom.

 

Posters of bands from decades earlier- The Cranberries, The Beatles, a poster with the dates of a Panic at the Disco tour- decorated the walls. It was a pretty ordinary bedroom, with shoes and textbooks littering the navy blue carpet. A bookshelf that looked older than Lance was in the corner, practically overflowing with paperbacks and anthologies among miscellaneous trinkets that lived on the shelves. Before he could take anything else in, the boy was ushering him into a doorway hidden to the side of the bookshelf. He walked inside and laid his jacket on the sink, bummed to see the stain beginning to set already. He jumped up on the counter and sat with his legs crossed facing the sink. “Hey mystery boy,” he called out. “You don’t happen to have any-”

 

“Soap?” the boy interrupted. He held up a bottle from the cabinet underneath the sink and raised an eyebrow again, this time with a slight smirk. “And don’t call me ‘mystery boy’.”

 

“What should I call you, then?” He hadn’t drank much of the alcohol, thankfully, but even his sober ears could hear the underlying flirtation in his voice. He tried to cover it up by reasoning, “you could just give me your name.”

 

“Nah,” he replied. He had already poured some soap on the jacket and was running it under the faucet, scrubbing at the spot with his hands. Lance peeked at his now-gloveless hands, trying to be as subtle as possible and smiled innocently when the boy looked up at him. He held the eye contact for only a moment before looking back at the jacket. “That’s the whole point of a masquerade, isn’t it? To meet people and not give your true identity away?”

 

“I mean, sure,” Lance agreed. He grinned and leaned back on the wall, his arms crossed lazily. “I just think people wearing masks are hot. Heightens the attraction, you know?”

 

The boy paused his scrubbing for a moment but kept his eyes on the jacket as he let the water washed some of the soap away. “What about me?” he asked teasingly. “Do you think I’m hot?”

 

Lance grinned wider, thrilled that the mystery boy had taken the bait. “Absolutely,” he whispered back as he leaned close.

 

Dark eyes flashed up to his own in surprise. He swallowed at the intense look that mystery boy gave him and edged closer. The other boy turned off the faucet, cutting the sound of running water and leaving the room silent except for the thump of music below. Mystery boy had moved closer too- now his hand was resting just a few centimeters away. He felt the urge to reach out and grab it, but right as he was about to, it disappeared.

 

A breath later it reappeared, gently cupping Lance’s cheek. The same hand that had seemed so strong a few minutes ago (minutes? hours? who knew?) now traced his jawline with feather-light fingers. He ran his hand down the side of Lance’s face, down his neck eventually making its way towards his hair. Lance held his breath and focused on the feeling of the stranger’s hand running through his hair, his eyes still locked on the other boy’s dark ones.

 

His hand stopped right underneath the edge of Lance’s mask. He trailed a finger lightly across the gold lining on the outside of it, and for a minute he thought that the boy was about to take it off. “That’s good to know,” the stranger said quietly. His voice was seductively low, perfectly matching his devilish appearance. Lance leaned into his hand, unintentionally moving closer, making the space between them shorter in the process. Mystery boy leaned closer, and now they were only a few breaths apart. All he had to do was lean a little more, tilt his head a little bit…

 

Mystery boy seemed to realize how close they had gotten and he jumped back, his hands falling from Lance’s face to his sides. “I.. I have to go,” he stammered. He bit his lip nervously and edged towards the bathroom door.

 

Lance reached out and grabbed his hand. “Wait, don’t go. I’m sorry if that was too much, you don’t have to leave.”

 

He shook his head and shot a glance behind him worriedly. “I do. I don’t… I can’t explain. But you shouldn’t waste your time on me,” he replied. He slipped his hand from Lance’s grasp and made for the door again.

 

“You’re the most interesting person I’ve ever met,” Lance insisted. “You aren’t a waste of time.”

 

“That’s because you don’t know who I really am,” Mystery boy shot back. He smiled sadly and kept his eyes trained on the bathroom tiles. “If you knew, you wouldn’t think that.”

 

Lance was still sat on the sink counter, frozen in place by the sudden change in mood. “There’s nothing you could say that would make me like you less,” he said softly. “I promise.”

He saw Mystery boy’s eyes flicker towards him curiously, and saw the slight step he took back towards Lance. He lingered there for just a second before he stepped backwards, turned the handle on the door and pulled it open. “I want to believe you,” he said quietly. “But I don’t.”

 

The stranger gave him one last glance, paired with that same sad smile, and then he was gone.

 

It took a minute or two for Lance to find his footing after he jumped off the counter. When he finally felt like he was balanced, he took towards the door, shoving it open forcefully. He spilled into the hallway and looked around, disappointed but unsurprised to find that the stranger was long gone. He felt like there were rocks in his stomach as he searched around the theme rooms on the second floor, wishing too late that he had gone after the other boy sooner.

 

He made it back downstairs a little while later, and he saw plenty of people he knew- classmates, a few people from the soccer team, two nice girls from the lgbt club. But the mystery boy had all but vanished into thin air. He wasn’t anywhere to be seen, and even though Adam and Shiro’s house was _big,_ he was pretty sure that a whole person couldn’t just disappear. If mystery boy was still at the party, he was doing a damn good job at hiding.

 

After a few hours and a few distracted games of beer pong later- which Adam and Shiro had won, due to his mind being elsewhere- he gave up looking and went home.

 

It was the next morning when Lance realized he left his jacket in the bathroom at Adam’s house. Blearily, he pushed ‘call’ next to his friend’s name and waited until he heard a groggy, “Hello?”

 

“I left my jacket at your place,” he mumbled into the phone. “White and gold. Might have a purple stain on it or it might not, who knows?”

 

Adam sighed. There was a faint rustling noise to indicate that he had dragged himself out of bed and into the hall. “Where did you leave it?” he asked, more awake now.

 

Lance, however, was still in bed and still half asleep. “Mmh. The bathroom off of the last bedroom on the second floor.”

 

There was a pause while Adam went to go look for it. “Really?” He sounded confused. “That’s weird. I just checked and I don’t see it in here. I’ll ask Keith if he’s seen it when he comes home from his morning seminar, though.”

 

Lance sat up in bed, more awake than ever. “Uh, who?”

 

“Keith. Shiro’s younger brother? That’s his bedroom, so if anyone has seen it, it would be him.” He could hear the creaking of the stairs in the background as Adam walked. “He was at the party last night, I’m actually surprised you didn’t run into him.”

 

Lance has so many flashbacks that his brain starts hurting. Adam saying that Shiro had a brother, an English major. Lance’s bio partner grumpily muttering out, mid semester last fall, “Yeah, well, Bio is hard. I’m an English major, I don’t understand science.” Last year’s round of photos from Adam’s party, where someone ( _probably Shiro_ , his brain supplies) took a candid of Keith laughing at Adam’s house. How he had whined to Hunk about Keith getting an invite to the party and not him.

 

That was how he got an invite. He _lived_ there. Lance had sat in Keith’s bathroom, on his sink, had almost made out with mystery boy-

 

“Hey, Adam?” he managed to whisper. He cleared his throat in an effort to sound stronger, and less like he had every breath knocked out of him. “Call me back if you find it, okay? I need to check something else.”

 

Adam paused mid-sentence and laughed. “Alright, will do. Gotta go find everything else you left behind at the party?” he joked.

 

“Something like that,” Lance replied weakly. “Talk to you later.”

 

As soon as he’s off the phone, he opens Instagram, his fingers shaking slightly. He holds his breath before he types in Keith’s handle, and tries to calm his racing heart as it loads. There’s no pictures from Adam’s party; the last picture was a nature shot of the sun setting behind the clock tower on campus, posted four days ago.

 

Lance’s heart sinks, which opens a whole new jar of things he had been fiercely ignoring. On a whim, he types in Shiro’s handle. It pops up under the Recently Viewed section from the night before, when they had exchanged their socials. There were three new posts: one was of Adam, probably snapped a few seconds after Shiro had proposed if his tear stained face and blinding smile was anything to go by. The next one was of Shiro and Adam in their costumes with a devil and angel emoji as the caption.

 

The last one, and newest one, posted ten minutes before Lance had arrived at the party, was of a boy: dark hair tied back, dressed completely in black, except for his red velvet blazer. His mask, all black with red embellishments, mocked Lance silently.

 

Mystery boy was in front of him, holding a red solo cup and looking just as effortlessly suave as he had in person. Lance tapped the picture, and a little icon showed up, signaling that Shiro had tagged Mystery boy in his post.

 

He considered not pressing it. He really did- Lance was more afraid of having his suspicions confirmed, at finding out that the two people he most certainly had feelings for were the same person. He didn’t want to know how close he had come to kissing the boy he had secretly crushed on for over a year.

 

He clicked.

 

Mystery boy’s tag took him straight to Keith’s profile, and he felt every last breath leave his body.

 

He shut down for a few minutes, honestly. It’s like every dumb detail had been right in front of him, and he had completely missed them all. He had looked Keith right in the face and had scoffed at him, teased him, when all he had wanted to do was kiss him.

 

Mystery boy- _Keith’s_ \- words from the night before rang through his head. _“I want to believe you. But I don’t.”_

 

Lance had promised that there was nothing that would make him like Mystery boy less, and he had been right about that: he liked him even more, now that he knew who he really was. He could admit that to himself, finally.

 

Now, he just had to admit that to Keith.

 

* * *

 

“Hey.” Keith greeted Shiro, who was laid out on the couch in the living room, nursing what looked like the world’s worst hangover. His brother waved with one hand, the other thrown over his face tiredly.

 

“Yeah,” he mumbled. He yanked the blanket up and over his head as Keith came to sit on the armrest. “Don’t drink, ever,” he groaned.

 

“You had like four beers,” Keith teased. He laughed at Shiro’s responding groan of disapproval. “You’re turning into a lightweight, old-timer.”

 

A deep sigh came from under the fluffy purple blanket. “I could drink like you back in the day… four score and three years of grad school ago,” he said with another sigh.

 

“A moment of silence for your tolerance,” Keith said seriously. They both sat for a moment quietly before he snorted and Shiro pushed him off the couch.

 

“Don’t be a wiseass,” he said before letting out a chuckle of his own. “How was your class?”

 

He stretched out on the floor, feeling his own exhaustion from waking up at dawn in his bones. “It’s a course on Jane Austen on Saturday morning at eight am,” he deadpanned. “How do you think it went?”

 

Shiro sat up and stretched as well, shooting him a teasing smile. “I’m surprised you were awake enough to walk home.”

 

“Took an uber. Fell asleep in the uber,” he replied, his eyes already sliding shut. Keith could sleep just about anywhere- one time Shiro had found him curled up on the floor next to the washing machine, passed out and snoring lightly.

 

His brother nudged him with his foot. “Go sleep in your own bed, kiddo.” He watched Keith stand up to grab his backpack and reached out to tug his jacket. “Wait, before you do. Adam wanted to know if you saw a jacket in your bathroom last night? White and gold, I think.”

 

If he noticed the color drain from Keith’s face, he didn’t mention it. “A jacket? Wh-why?” He swallowed thickly, then asked the question that had been rolling around in his head since the night before. “Whose is it?”

 

“It belongs to Adam’s friend, Lance.” Shiro had closed his eyes again and couldn’t see the way Keith tensed. “Nice kid. He’s Cuban and pretty fluent in Spanish so he’s been tutoring Adam. He stopped by the party last night and called this morning to tell Adam that he left his blazer in your bathroom.”

 

He really shouldn’t be surprised. Keith had figured out pretty earlier into their…. conversation…. that the ridiculously good looking angel was Lance. _His_ Lance- or, his biology partner and classmate (and crush) Lance. But hearing it confirmed by Shiro made him freeze. It rooted him in the spot, and after a few painfully quiet moments of internal panicking, Shiro opened his eyes.

 

He took one look at Keith’s face and snapped into big brother mode. “Whoa, what’s going on? You look like you’ve just seen a ghost.”

 

He let Shiro pull him onto the couch and then, like a confused kid in a teen romance movie, laid out the story. Thankfully, his brother already knew about his year-long pining for his classmate, and the second he said, ‘my bio partner Lance’ Shiro shot him a sad look. He stayed quiet though, listening carefully and only interrupted to ask for clarification on something. He grinned when Keith mentioned the almost-kiss, only to sigh when he mentioned how he ran away and waited in Shiro and Adam’s room on the third floor for Lance to leave.

 

“So that’s why you came into the kitchen looking for ice cream at three in the morning?” Shiro asked. Keith nodded silently, and he sighed again. “Oh, Keith… Why didn’t you just tell him who you were?”

 

“Because!” He ran a hand through his hair, irritated at himself and at the whole situation. “With the mask on, and Lance not knowing it was me, I could be someone else. Someone cooler and more attractive and not,” he gestured to himself pointedly. “This.” He sighed and leaned back into the cushions, suddenly feeling even more exhausted than he was. “I could be someone who he would actually be interested in.”

 

“And how do you know that he isn’t interested in ‘this’?” Shiro pointed at Keith. He snorted in response. “I’m serious! You won’t know unless you’re honest with him.”

 

“He isn’t interested, Shiro,” he muttered. “If he was- why hasn’t he said anything? We’ve been in the same classes for two years.”

 

“Maybe he’s just as nervous as you are,” he pointed out. Keith gave him a disbelieving look at that, and Shiro frowned. “Look at me and Adam,” he said. “When we were in college, I was a freshman trying to rush some dumb frat. And he was on student council, already interning at that law firm that he hated so much. He was smart and talented and I felt like he was leagues above me but you know how we got together?” Keith shook his head. “We were at that dumb frat’s halloween party,” he replied. “I was trying to look cool for all the older kids and he came up to me, looked me in the face, and said ‘I’ve been trying to ask you out for a month. Do you want to ditch this and get a burger?’ And we did,” he finished.

 

“That’s a lot lamer than I expected,” Keith teased him.

 

As usual, Shiro could see right through him. “Don’t turn this on me,” he accused. “The point is that if Adam hadn’t done that, we probably would have danced around each other for at least another year. Maybe he would have dated someone else. And we wouldn’t be engaged.” He smiled gently and rested his hand on Keith’s shoulder. “You have to try, kiddo. You’ll never know otherwise.”

 

He looked down at his socks and wiggled his toes as he considered it. “You’re so annoying,” he grumbled after a few minutes. “Okay. I dropped his blazer off at the dry cleaners down the block and I’ll give it to him on Monday.” He saw Shiro grin and rolled his eyes. “Happy now, dad?”

 

“Yes,” he replied, attempting to smother his grin. “Do I really sound like Dad?” he asked seriously. He looked down and played with the edge of the blanket anxiously, undoubtedly lost in his own thoughts.

 

“Yeah,” Keith said. He waited for Shiro to look back up at him and smiled. “It’s good though. Dad would be proud of you for being as annoyingly wise as he was.”

 

Shiro smiled back, clearly pleased. “Great,” he said. “Then I’m doing my job right.”

 

* * *

 

Monday rolled around too quickly. The creep of butterflies in his stomach was pretty familiar at this point- they appeared every time he thought about going to class and having to sit next to Lance, who always smelled way too good to be legal and smiled at everyone. Even him, despite their constant bickering.

 

Shiro had pointed out oh-so-helpfully during their heart to heart that the back and forth between them was probably less genuine bickering and more flirting and he had turned a shade of red that wasn’t known to the human eye. The butterflies intensified at that thought as he pulled on a hoodie and grabbed the white and gold blazer that had gotten him into this mess in the first place.

 

“I’m leaving!” he called out. Dad and Dad poked their heads out of the kitchen doorway to smile as he passed.

 

“Remember to breathe,” Shiro said helpfully.

 

“Go get your MAN!” Adam cheered, his grin wider than Shiro’s (if that was even possible).

 

Keith practically ran out the door, the white blazer stored in his backpack. “Goodbye, you’re so embarrassing, love you both,” he yelled as the door slammed behind him.

 

They both watched him stomp to his motorcycle, kick it on and speed out of the driveway. “We’re a good influence,” Shiro said happily.

 

“We’re a great influence,” Adam replied, pressing a kiss to his fiance’s cheek. “He’ll be fine. Come eat your breakfast and stop worrying so much.”

 

Keith managed to keep calm all day, right up until he walked into the building their shared class was in. He started sweating a little as he climbed the stairs to the second floor, focusing less on walking and a lot more on the speech he had prepared to say to Lance. _You don’t have to feel the same way, you don’t even have to respond. I just want you to know how I feel so that at least you know, and I’m not missing out on something great because I was too scared to tell you. I’m the guy from the party, and if you’re willing to give me a chance, I want to show you the real me._ He repeated it over and over as he climbed, sure that he had it memorized by heart. All he had to do was say that, and wait for a reaction.

 

That was not what he said.

 

What he _did_ say was, “Here’s your jacket. You left it at my place,” as he threw the blazer down in front of Lance’s alarmed face.

 

There was a beat of silence, during which Lance’s friend Hunk rolled further down the table on his wheeled chair. Lance just stared at him, and then at the jacket, and then back at him. All he could think was: _oh god I fucked this up._

 

And then Lance stood up, his chair rolling backwards as he grabbed Keith’s face with both hands and kissed him, hard.

 

It wasn’t a good kiss but it wasn’t necessarily bad either, just because this was Lance and as far as Keith knew, he wasn’t bad at anything. Except dissecting frogs in bio lab because apparently it made him sad and then he was dragging his hand down to cup Keith’s chin and his head tilted up a little and _oh_ . Yeah, okay. It was a good kiss. He was shocked enough by Lance’s reaction that he melted a little bit and let him do all the work, let him move his lips and coax Keith’s to finally move, to be a little more responsive. He let his hand rest at the back of Lance’s neck, playing with the end of his short hair idly. He groaned at that and opened his mouth, and then the kiss went from good to _great._

 

“Not to like,” came a voice from next to them. They pulled apart in surprise, both of their chests still pressed together. Hunk was speaking and trying to hold back a smile. “Not to interrupt or anything but this is a European History lecture and I’m not exactly sure if french kissing fits into the syllabus,” he teased lightly.

 

“Yeah, get a room,” someone said from the second row.

 

They both blushed lightly and smiled at each other before they sat in their seats. Lance put his (now clean) blazer on the back of his chair, then shot a nervous look towards Keith. “We should talk later,” he said, one hand rubbing his neck anxiously.

 

Keith pulled his hand down and linked their hands together, watching happily as Lance gave him a soft smile. “We will,” he promised.

 

“Good,” he replied happily. Their hands were still intertwined and were now resting on the table between them. “I have a lot to say to you, Mystery boy.”

  
  
  
  


**Author's Note:**

> thanks for reading!! i hope your holiday is spooooky.


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